


Scuttle in the Dark

by misumaru



Category: Jrock, the GazettE
Genre: Horror, M/M, Puppets, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:09:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misumaru/pseuds/misumaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A marathon gaming session leaves Reita dreaming a dark and twisted nightmare... One where he isn't quite himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scuttle in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the objectification square of my [seasonofkink](http://seasonofkink.dreamwidth.org/) card. Big hugs to the wonderful [ldybastet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyBastet) for inspiring this with her Pyramid Head Reita manip, and for not running away when I asked her to beta! *hugs*
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with the GazettE, PSC, or Konami. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real events or people is purely coincidental.

As the multi-coloured spots started to swim in front of his eyes, Reita finally conceded that, yeah, he'd probably been playing for too long. 

He'd been bored and felt the need to replay some of his older games, so he'd dug out his old PS2 and had a marathon gaming session. After all, what better way to spend a rare break at home during a tour? Sure, time and memory had eroded a lot of the shock factor, but the various ravening zombie hordes he faced still managed to get under his skin eventually, and by the time he had nearly broken his controller after dying miserably to the metal-masked freak with the knife for the fifth time, he figured it was time to call it a night. Y'know, if he ever wanted to actually sleep again.

Fucking one-hit kills, he thought as collapsed onto his bed. What kind of shitty cheap-ass boss relied on that? He'd try it again in the morning, maybe it would be easier to beat once he'd had a rest...

***

The low light made it hard to see down the long corridor stretching out in front of him. High walls with no visible ceiling in sight, just darkness and filthy lines of water damage running down their length, eventually connecting with a rusted metal walkway. It clanked underfoot as he took another step forward, his footsteps strangely slow and heavy.

He turned his head from side to side as he walked, trying to see more of his surroundings, and realised that the lack of light wasn't the only thing obscuring his vision. He was wearing a helmet, only able to see through a slit at the front that narrowed his sight to what was directly ahead of him. Weirdly, it wasn't heavy at all, instead feeling like a natural part of him. Another screech sounded behind him as he moved, and he realised that one of his hands was wrapped around the hilt of a great butcher's knife. That _was_ heavy, but he found with some effort that he could swing it overhead in a great arc. A smile of grim satisfaction formed beneath his helmet.

_clank. screech. clank. screech._

What was he doing here? He had to find something... someone? A dark burning need he couldn't describe filled him, static ringing in his ears as he stalked through the narrow, twisting corridors. Occasionally, he would hear the patter of running feet and the odd terrified groan. Fine, let them run. He'd catch them eventually.

He always did.

_clank. screech. clank. screech._

There was an opening up ahead. In one corner, an indistinct white object lay like a pile of rags, until he drew closer and realised it was humanoid. A puppet with cut strings. Had it tried to escape with the others and fallen behind? Something about its appearance was familiar to him – the dusty white scraps of clothing topped off with straw-like blond hair and black lines running down the neck ringing a faint bell and trigging a slow throb in his groin. Was this what he was looking for?

Unbidden, he found his tongue unfurling, slipping out through the hole in his mask and stretching to lengths he hadn't known possible as it probed the prone body in front of him, drinking in the tastes of blood, sweat, and dirt as it ran over skin. The taste of fear. Despite this, he was sure he saw its eyes flicker towards him as his tongue continued to wind up and down its body, tearing off the remaining scraps of clothing as it went until the puppet was stripped and ready.

Whatever dark need it was that had been pulling him along reached a crescendo. The knife clattered unheeded to the floor behind him as he wrenched at the grubby apron he'd been wearing, freeing the painfully hard erection that had been building steadily. He grabbed the puppet by both arms and slammed it up against the wall, dust and paint chips raining around them as its back collided with concrete. It still didn't move, but the eyes swivelled to meet his face, holding a steady gaze as he wrapped its legs around his hips and thrust in with no warning. His pace was uneven, violent, the puppet's arms dangling limply as he fucked it mercilessly against the wall. The eyes though... They never stopped watching, and were soon accompanied by a deep moan echoing from deep within the puppet's throat. Somehow, this only spurred him on even more, gripping one of its arms so hard he thought it might break as he continued to pound it against the wall. 

He couldn't slow down. How could he, with a need this strong? When his orgasm hit, it was short and intense, hips moving wildly as he held the puppet firmly against the wall, ignoring its constant gaze. The puppet continued with its unearthly moan as it was filled with his come. From fear? From pleasure? Who knew. Finished, he let the doll drop lifelessly to the floor and turned away, the screech of his knife dragging behind following him as he left.

_clank. screech. clank. screech._

A siren blared overhead as he walked into the darkness, hunting for his next victim.

***

Another day, another live. 

Reita couldn't help but grin as Ruki did his freaky puppet thing again. The man was way too good at it, letting his movements go rigid and jerky while his head flopped to the side. Funny really, it kind of reminded him of... of...

Oh.

Grateful that the noseband covered his blush, he repositioned his bass just to make sure that the hard-on he was developing definitely wasn't on show. He'd almost forgotten about that fucked up sex dream until now. Talk about a twisted thing to get turned on by... 

He watched Ruki a little more, taking in the swaying limbs as Ruki jutted out an elbow and let his hand dangle. 

Yeah. Definitely twisted. 

Still, maybe he should make a point of finding him during the break...


End file.
